I deserve the week. I’m going to tell him when Owen gets back. Then I will deal with it.
“So I got…” He scratches his head for a moment. “I got a score of a hundred and forty-six out of sixty.”
“How did you work that out?”
“Well, basically my body counteracted all other negative aspects out.”
I laugh. It’s true. It totally does.
A song comes on and he stands. “Let’s dance.” He takes my hand as he guides me off my stool.
“What?”
“I have to work on that swoony thing.” He leads me to the dance floor and wraps his large arms around me, and I laugh into his shoulder.
“You don’t have to work on anything, Cameron.”
He spins me hard and we nearly lose our footing. We stumble to the left sharply and run into another couple.
“Sorry,” he mouths before grimacing at me.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” I chuckle.
“Hitting these appraisal targets could be dangerous, Bloss.” He spins me again and I laugh out loud. “Hold on to your hat.”
I wake to the feel of gentle kissing of my shoulder blade from behind. I smile and turn my head as he kisses me softly.
“Good morning, Blossom,” he whispers huskily.
“Good morning, baby.” I smile as I reach behind my head to cup his face.
He pulls me closer to him and I lie in his arms. I inhale deeply in happiness. Now, this is the way to wake up to a new day. Encased in Cameron’s safe arms.
What an amazing night with an amazing man.
He’s perfect.
Every single thing about him is perfect. We laughed our way around New York City last night. He is the funniest man, maybe person, I have ever met. Witty, intelligent, sexy. I didn’t know men like him even existed and I knew I didn’t imagine it all those years ago. This is the ultimate male species.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks.
“Just stay in bed.” I try and swallow. My mouth is dry from all those drinks last night. “I need a drink,” I murmur groggily.
He gets up and goes to the mini bar before he turns and hands a bottle of water to me. Then he goes to the bathroom.
I nearly drink the whole bottle in one go. This is taking dehydration to a new level.
He returns with new enthusiasm. “I know what we can do today.” He smiles excitedly as he stands there, butt naked.
“You do?” I frown. Oh God, please don’t let it be jumping out of a plane or some extreme bullshit. “What’s that?”
He points at me. “We’re going to go out to breakfast and then I am taking you to the New York Library.”
“Huh?”
He widens his eyes in excitement and turns the television on. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asks chirpily.
I watch him for a moment. He’s super energised while I feel like a complete train wreck.
“You weren’t tipping those drinks of yours into pot plants last night, were you?” I ask dryly.
He laughs and crawls over the bed on his hands and knees to pin me beneath him. “Not feeling so good today, huh?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You shouldn’t have drunk so much,” he murmurs against my stomach as he bends to kiss me.
“It was the company I was keeping. Peer pressure.”
He bends and bites my hipbone and I squirm underneath him. “Perk up, old girl, we have a full itinerary.”
I close my eyes as a wave of nausea rolls through me. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
We walk into the library hand in hand and Cameron smiles like the cat that got the cream.
“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting creepy.” I smirk.
He winks. “I am creepy.” He walks up to the reception desk. “Hello, I want to search for some records. How do I do that?” he asks the lady.
“Just go to computer twenty-two, type into the search bar what records you are looking up, and it will search for you.”
“Thank you.” He smiles and we walk to the station where all the computers are.
“What are we doing here?” I frown as I look around at all the people reading intently as I drop into the seat next to him. “Is this part of your brain power plan?” I ask as I rub my hand up his muscular thigh. I smile. I like being able to touch him whenever I want to.
“You’ll see.” We’ve just been out for breakfast where we sat in the sun in a park and read the morning newspapers.
It was unfussed and easy, and God, I don’t want it to ever end. He makes me feel so alive and so… I don’t even know the right word to describe it.
Complete?
He types in a few things and frowns. I take the opportunity to look around. “What are you looking for?” I whisper.
This is annoying. He’s wasting my date time in a frigging library.
“Have some patience, woman,” he replies, distracted.
I roll my eyes, sit back in my chair, and fold my arms. Come to think of it, I’m hungry again or is just that the hangover reappearing?
I don’t know, but I think I need cake. “Can we have cake and coffee when we finish?” I ask.
“The only cake you will be eating is cream pie,” he murmurs with a raised brow.
I lean in. “You’re a sex maniac, Stanton.”
“I know,” he replies casually as he concentrates.
“I want banoffee pie,” I whisper.
He smirks and keeps typing. “You’re going to look like a banoffee pie soon.”
I giggle. “Lucky, I’m going out with a sex maniac who will like me anyway.”
“True. I prefer cream pie to banoffee, though.” He smirks, distracted.
I roll my eyes. “We already established that, Einstein. This isn’t helping your brain power score.”
He grins. “I’m trying to raise another score out here.” He stands abruptly. “Switch seats with me.”
I frown up at him before I switch seats.
He points to the screen and I focus on what I’m meant to be looking at. “Huh? What’s this?” I ask.
“Classifieds.”
I look over at him. “Why am I looking at old classifieds?”
He widens his eyes in exasperation. “Just read them.”
“Fine,” I breathe, half annoyed. Why the hell we are wasting time here, I have no idea.
I read down the list and then at the bottom I see it.
To the betting man’s wife who works in an ice cream shop.
We met in Vegas last weekend when you needed a stand in husband.
I lost my phone.
Je n’ai aucun moyen de vous contacter.
Translation: I have no way of finding you.
Wer auch immer eine Wette gewinnt, mag niemals dasselbe sein.
Translation: Whoever wins a bet to you, may never be the same.
I’m in New York looking for you.
Appelle-moin.
Translation: Call me.
0423788900
Oh my God. My eyes rise to search his. “You did try to find me?”
He smiles softly. “I told you I did.”
I look back to the computer and read it again so I know I’m not imagining this.
Nope. It’s definitely still there.
“Cam,” I whisper, and for some reason I get a really big lump in my throat and my eyes tear up.
What a horrible case of sliding doors. If only we’d met back then things, could be so different between us.
His face falls. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head as I try to pull myself together.
He picks up my hand and kisses the back of it. Overcome with emotion, I lean in and kiss him softly. He looks down at me as he brushes the hair back from my forehead. “Are you getting soppy on me, Tucker.”
I nod and smile through my tears. “Most definitely.” I pause as I reread the ad.
“I think I just found another dimension,” I whisper.
He smiles softly and kisses me. “Two down, one to go.”
I walk down the aisle of the plane as I head back to our seat. We’re midway through our flight back to Los Angeles. Cameron is sitting with his head against the seat, and he smiles sexily as I approach, patting his knee.
I feel my heart flutter. Lately, that seems to be a common occurrence. Just one look from him sets me into schoolgirl raptures. As I approach our seat, he pats his knee again and I bend to kiss him gently. “I can’t sit on your knee,” I whisper as I look around.
“Who says?” he grumbles as he pulls me down. “This isn’t coach. We can do what we want here.”
He lays me across lap with my feet on my seat, and then he shakes out the blanket and covers us both. I smile as I curl into him and his warm arms come around me before he softly kisses my temple. “That’s better,” he whispers.
I smile against his chest and snuggle into him. He smells so damn good, and he’s right, being this close is much better.
We laughed, we danced, we made love, and we fucked like animals in New York. I have never felt so fulfilled in my entire life.
If happiness is a gift, Cameron Stanton is my Santa Claus.
I’m falling in love.
With every glance, with every touch, with the air that he breathes every second.
Cameron Stanton is his own kind of magical drug and the high he gives is as good as it gets.
The longer I’m on it, the harder the withdrawal will be.
Unfortunately, I already know our fate, but I’m trying to put it to the back of my mind and enjoy the time we have together.
“Thank you for a beautiful weekend, Cam.” I smile up at him.
He kisses my forehead and he smiles in return. “Thank you,” he whispers against my hair. “It was a great weekend and I don’t want to go home. Can’t we just run away?”